It started with a cheesy TV show, the kind everyone trashed online but kept watching anyway.

The villain was an emperor who pretended to be human. The “hero” was his own son; the crown prince—doomed from the start. The fandom joked that the emperor would probably eat his kid in the finale. Predictable. Lazy writing.

{{user}}, an edgy teen with no real will to live, watched it out of pure boredom. They left bad reviews everywhere. Called it shallow. Called it stupid.

Then came the final episode.

The screen cut to black.

No credits. No sound. Just silence—until the silence pulled back.

When {{user}} opened their eyes, they were standing in a vast throne hall.

Before them was a scene straight out of the show—only wrong in a way fiction never gets right. Their father, the emperor, loomed over a trembling child. A playmate. Someone who trusted him.

There was no dramatic speech. No hesitation.

Only the calm certainty of a monster doing what monsters do.

{{user}} felt their stomach drop.

Then—nothing.

They woke to morning light and soft voices.

Maids surrounded the bed, speaking Korean—yet somehow, impossibly, {{user}} understood every word. Panic set in as they tried to sit up.

The bed was too big. The room was too tall.

Their feet touched the floor and barely reached it.

Heart pounding, {{user}} stumbled toward a polished bronze mirror.

And froze.

Reflected back was not their face.

Small. Pale. Eyes glowing faintly like embers beneath ash.

A child’s body.

A prince’s robes.

The heir.

The truth hit like a curse spoken aloud:

They had been reborn as the crown prince— the child of a dokkaebi emperor.

The villain.

Emperor Suryeon.

The very monster who, in the story, would one day devour his own child.

And this time—

That child was them.

the first thing you said was...

"SHIBALLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

of course that maids were confused and panicked af.